Princess Majora: A Victim in Time
by The Masked Sage
Summary: The ancient followers of Demise left a legacy only a handful know. After their defeat at the hands of Lady Hylia, an arcane sect built a stone fortress deep in the Ikana region of Termina. But after disappearing in a single night, a mysterious artifact was abandoned, hidden away beneath the foundations. A mask with dark and terrible powers bearing the name Majora.
1. Prologue

I lived a mere shadow of a life. I try to remember my name, but it's like remembering an echo instead of a voice. Or seeing ripples in water, but no stone. That's all my life has been: echoes and ripples. I lived only the consequences of others. But now my spirit wanders - no longer bound to a cage.

My once fragmented mind assembles before my eyes, piece by piece, memory by memory. Near the rim of consciousness, my fingers rasp stone rubble and rake grass and dirt. My vision clears and a fine-dressed woman sits horseback in a pasture nearby. Her skin is pale and she holds a glowing bow. Her eyes stay fixed on something. What is she spectating? My gaze follows hers and I survey two others in a golden field. One seems like a monstrous, black mountain and the other is a young man, fit and green. Green? Green just like - swords swinging, they lurch at one another. I hear the clashing echoes. I cannot tell if this is real or a memory or pure fantasy?

A small imp lies near me. Her hair burns orange and she cries. I know her from somewhere. I feel for her somehow. My senses are dulled, but I can feel another near. Is it him? I must thank him. I never got the chance to thank him…

No one comes to my side and I lay prostrated for hours. Time passes; and my arms tremble like branches in a squall as I rise onto my hands and knees. I hear the sound of someone approaching, they kick dirt with every step. I peek upward and see golden boots bouncing light in all directions.


	2. Dawn of the First Day

I glide down the corridor, hearing the echoes of my leather boots reverberating off the stones. But as I approach my personal chambers, I hear something else. The pitter of faint footsteps. I about-face; no one is there and I enter my room. Twisting the silver key into the keyhole, I cast an enchantment on the wooden door. I then pass by the bed to scrutinize my narrow face in the mirror.

My eyes reflect the color of fresh apples, green and bright. I notice that my purple hair is losing its black streaks. I grab the swamp-witch's potion and massage the silky tonic into the strands. After a minute or two, the black streaks reillumine. I grip the bottle for a moment, a frown spans my face. I remember the old witch, she was very kind and eccentric. How foolish and stubborn father is. I hate his rules; I want to leave this fortress.

I lather my face using homemade soap and water with my wash bowl and pitcher. As I dry my face, I wander to the small balcony facing the setting sun. Half submerged into the west, the sun paints orange, green, and pink across the underbellies of clouds. I look down at the temple. It faces away from me, but I can clearly see the four pillars and fiery finger. I faintly hear the boulders, crashing and rolling. How many spies have those boulders killed?I return my gaze upward and glimpse the black silhouette of the clock tower on the horizon. My melancholic frown reappears; I think of music, laughter, dancing, crying, and art. Frequenting Clock Town for the annual Carnival of Time just isn't enough. Even then, I have to wear a mask the whole time.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" I hear.

My eyes widen and then narrow. I almost spin around, but manage to control my impulses.

"It is, father." I say coolly and glance behind me. Father leans against the doorway to my chambers. I progress, "Was my spell that easy to breach?"

"A little more practice is all you need." He remarked and chortled.

"That, or you shadowed in while I was busy with my potions. Which would explain why my enchantment is still intact."

Not hiding his chagrin, he continued, "You got me there. But come now, sealing the door and coloring your hair, whatever happened to the little girl that ran the halls, giggling and roaring?"

"She realized her reach was limited because she lived in a cage. There are so many things I want to learn and see beyond Stone Tower, father. The books in the library describe such places, places with glowing seahorses and dragonflies bigger than me. But will I ever go to those places? No. Will I ever reach those dreams? No."

Father's gaze lowered, his blue bangs covering his eyes.

"I do not mean to abandon the tribe or its creed, but we are not living anymore. We are dwindling."

"I know, Majora, I am well aware of our situation. But I believe our time has finally come again."

"Father?"

He brushed his hair behind his right ear and said, "The Wise Men have returned from the Golden Land with news. We are closer than ever, Majora."

"You mean you're closer."

Silence passed, then Father capriciously said, "Did you know that your uncle Oumari's apprentice, Eoni, has asked me for your hand in marriage."

I wasn't surprised, "Eoni?"

"Eoni." Father confirmed, "Think about it, Majora: when your uncle dies, Eoni will be the next mayor—we'll make sure of it—and you could be the mayor's wife. You could leave Stone Tower and spend your years in Clock Town, visiting all the other regions and chasing sunsets as well. Does that appeal to you?"

"How soon could I marry Eoni?" I say, tired of his teasing tone.

He smirked. "You're that anxious to leave? Your attendant has not even reported you bleeding Moon's-blood, be patient. But in order to have my blessing, I need something from you. And what I ask is not a frivolous thing. But you must learn that freedom has a high price."

"What do you wish of me, father?"

"Three years of your life."

"Three years?"

"Maultrich informs me that—"

"Maultrich is a strange and dark man. I don't trust him."

"Nonetheless, he is the high priest and the last of the great mages. He has informed me of another way to resurrect Lord Demise."

I leer at father. "What does Maultrich know? Lord Ghirahim was only capable of such magic. And I thought Lady Hylia's incarnation was the only acceptable sacrifice—and she is protected under sign of the Fierce One."

"Very true, my daughter. But Maultrich has another theory."

() () ()

The whole tribe joins the procession, mumbling and conversing. They amassed in the markets and common areas and then paraded slowly down the main halls, halting at the terrace across from the temple. I hear the words, "war," "Keeta," "oath," "election," and "sacrifice" along the way.

At the gap, I spot Maultrich in his formal, black robes. He announces, "Behold, the Great Temple of Stone Tower! Look! The fiery finger of indignation still burns brightly. If you are ever lost, let the Holy Hand guide your sight always skyward! To those that robbed us, and to where our hope forever lies."

An attendant brings Maultrich his bow and he loses a glowing arrow across the void. It sails and pierces the bloody gem on the temple's front, bleeding crimson everywhere. I shut my eyes and grappled with the uneasiness of shifting gravity. First, I am jostled sideways and then thrown downward to the ceiling. My muscle memory lands me on my feet, poised and calm. My handmaiden brushes dust from her gown and everyone else lands silently.

Father and Maultrich extend the bridge and we traverse the dark pit beneath. I soon stand before the burning eyes and gaping mouth of Stone Tower Temple. I wait a moment: pondering the blackness inside. I enter and the shadows feel so thick that I almost feel them seeping into me.

The procession marches throughout the temple, careful not to fall into the sky. The minstrel's play jaunty tunes as we tread deeper and deeper into the temple. Chamber after chamber, my tribe dances and skips and sings. I spy our tribe's symbol along the walls and floors. It's a figure: masked, caped, and horned. The same emblem is embroidered on my purple cape and white tabard. One of father's guards carries a small wooden chest and is instructed by my father, "Remain here. Should one of the four intervene, use the Giant's Mask."

The final chamber has a gigantic hole in the ceiling; a torrent of silver moonlight spills upward onto the painted floor. Maultrich stands beside the gap, reaches into his belt pouch, and retrieves a handful of white, powdery sand. As he slowly kneads his hand, the sand flows down and swirls rapidly into the hole, forming an enormous eddy that spits light and dust.

"Are you ready, my daughter?" I hear behind me.

Maultrich bids me forward.

"Yes." I whisper and proceed to Maultrich. I gaze upon the vortex and dive into the sky.


	3. Night of the Second Day

I knuckle sand from my eyes and before me sprawls a colossal, obsidian ziggurat. I can scarcely survey the entire thing without turning my head. It's nightfall and a desert surrounds the black, torch-lit structure. The desert-edge bounds and leaps beyond fringes I imagine do not exist. The music and laughter fade. Everyone, in one silent mob, ascends the ziggurat to the highest level. There the entire tribe stands around the central ramp where father delivers his introductory speech. The wind pushes and pulls me like a tide, my dress and cape billow wildy. Father stands tall.

"My brothers and sisters," he begins, "we stand here today on Holy ground: the brink of reality and dream. This sacred realm and this beautiful edifice," he motions to our environment and resumes, "created by our ancestors, houses our history and vengeance. Hear well, my people," father motions the tribal code for everyone to sit, " for our tribe's history is carried in this desert wind.

"In the early days of creation, the Goddesses Three formed land and sea and sky. They fashioned races of gods, demons, and creatures, and all lived together. The Three celebrated their newest creations by forging their governing agent, the Triforce. A relic that can alter reality with a single touch. They then ordained the cursed Knil, the Fierce One, as their regent and all, all seemed well." I remember when grandfather recited the tribal history. He would detail the love relationship between the Fierce One and Lady Hylia, but father omits it.

"-dawn of avarice came and many souls sought the Triforce. Fearing it might fall into unworthy hands, the Three reflected the realm into two others: a light and a dark realm. With three realms existing, the Three placed the Triforce in the light realm and supposed who would be its protector and guardian. The candidates were gods: the Fierce One, Lady Hylia, and the Supreme Dominion." I glance around at my tribe; everyone focuses on father. I wonder how the tribe manages to fit on the ziggurat's highest level. When I was younger, people strained to hear from the steps. Why are we so few now? I return my attention to father,

"-his failures disqualified him and the task turned to Lady Hylia or Suprme Dominion to swore and guard the Triforce from evil in his stead. But Lord Dominion knew in his heart that his power only could protect the Triforce and all sacredness. He demanded the title of protector and regent over the light realm. However, the Three Goddesses chose the first and sentenced Supreme Dominion to rule the dark realm.

The three worlds were then tethered and settled using special paths such as the one beneath this land's clock tower, and for a time peace abounded. Seeing tranquility, the Three returned to their divine and distant land.

"But Lord Dominion could not forgive their ignorance. It was then that the mages of our tribe found favor in his sight. Master Maultrich is the last of those mages. He has summoned us to conclave in order to disclose his plan for our Lord's return. I say hear and obey his words!"

A murmur wafted amongst the crowd. Maultrich arose and ascended the platform as father descended. His eyes glistened as if a firestorm blazed behind them.

"Many thanks, Captain Kumari, King of Masks. As our history tells, we allied with Supreme Dominion and became his personal attendants. His frustrations bleed to pure malice and he planned to battle the light-dwellers for the possession of the Holy Power. Supreme Dominion forsook his godhood and became the Demon King, Demise; our Lord and Dark Master. He promised that, in return for our loyalty, the Triforce would grant us magic and prosperity beyond comprehension. Passing through the Trivium beneath this land's Tower of Time, we broke a fissure up into the Golden Land! At Lord Demise's side, victory was near. And his Lordship would have seized the Triforce if Lady Hylia had not desperately sent it skyward. She was then aided by the Fierce One: Lady Hylia's disgraceful and so-called hero."

Jeers and laughs erupted from the crowd.

"Yes, indeed, but it seemed the fallen hero still had some spunk in him. Together, they imprisoned Lord Demise with a foul seal. And as we retreated, we learned of the Fierce One's other unforgivable sin. In the Trivium, he destroyed the third gate leading to the dark realm, our home! Cut off from the twilite realm and our families - our beloved children, fathers, wives, and sisters - we were left at mercy of the Fierce One's lumbering proxies, the giants. But did we surrender?"

The tribe roared, "NO!"

"We made a home, here, in Ikana and built Stone Tower as our oath to possess the Triforce: to consume its power, influence, and prowess. We plotted and prepared.

"After centuries however, Lord Ghirahim's bokoblin messengers reached our doors with more terrible news. Ghirahim performed a perfect resurrection of Lord Demise - body and spirit - but both were conquered by the Spirit of that fallen hero. Before the bokoblin could request reinforcements from our tribe, it was too late. The spirits of the three great gods entered into a permanent cycle of birth, death, and renewal for eternity. We could never know when Lord Demise would incarnate again. Hope was lost for hundreds of years. But no less than three months ago did we, your Wise Men, locate a powerful incantation. The precise incantation that the Great Mages searched a millennia to find."

My stomach feels abruptly empty and groggy. I spot Maultrich's servants slowing rising from the tribe, three carry candles lit with black flames. My stomach churns every time I stare at the flames.

"- journeyed to the light realm and discovered a new nation known as Hyrule. Within its Royal Library, we discovered a sealed portion of forbidden spells. One spell, the Dark Rites, detailed an incantation for resurrection by harnessing the forces of destruction, sorrow, and despair into three vigil candles.

"Years ago, we sent the Phantom Beast Bongo Bongo to search for the Twilight Mirror and stone. By fate's design, it seems, we also ordered him to seed destruction in the Golden Land. This destruction has manifested itself as the Flame of Destruction!

And there was also the notorious drifter, the Skull Kid. We manipulated the dastardly imp into bringing sorrow and misfortune to all regions of Termina. This misery kindled the Flame of Sorrow.

And do not forget the millennia of despair our tribe has felt of losing our Dark Lord. This hopelessness sparked the Flame of Despair. And now, behold my people, the Flames of Destruction, Sorrow, and Despair glow gloriously!" At this statement, his servants mount the platform and brandish the candles to the crowd. Maultrich goes on,

"When the candles ignite and royal blood spills, Lord Demise shall be reborn. The sacrificial blood must be - it is said - of the incarnation of Lady Hylia." Pervasive cries echo from the clan. "I know your thoughts, but fear not. This works to our advantage, for we do not need Lady Hylia's sacrifice. We will not perform a bodily resurrection of our Lord. We will, instead, break the seal on his heart. His heart will then inhabit our own princess, Lady Majora, for a mere three years, at which time the spell will dissipate. Her royal blood is key to this magic.

"I have educated Princess Majora regarding the Dark Rites and she graciously volunteered to be a vessel for Lord Demise. She will lose three years of her young life in slumber, for our gain. With the Demon King's heart - his drive, power, and greed - on our side, we will wage war on Termina and the Golden Land. Our time has come! Princess Majora, will you please join me now at the Hexing Pedestal for your divine destiny."

I hear his complacent tone. He has waited his whole life for his time of glory: to be Demise's lap-doggy. I stand and a muted gasp follows me up the ramp. Maultrich holds out his hand for mine - I imagine a bird bursting from its cage - and I reluctantly take it. His hand is hot and dry just like my own windpipe.

"We will reclaim our kingdom in the Dark Land and rule over all existence! For it is here in Termina that we have rewritten history and manipulated the world to our advantage. We erased the history of the Three Goddesses and the Fierce One and replaced it with our mask of deception. We control Clock Town, and soon the other regions and realms. We have lived and operated in shadow, but no longer! Please, my friends, now is the time to mask our faces and knit our magic together to execute the ritual at hand!"

I see hundreds of clansmen with beaming smiles and rejoyceful tears and clapping hands. But I also spy the dozens of worried and frightened expressions before they disappear behind masks. I scan for father's face, but see only his grinning, white-fox mask. Altogether, the masks look like a heap of broken, colored glass.

"Organize the circles of protection!" Maultrich howls.

Wordlessly, the colorful mass maneuvers and swells like a stormy ocean. A faceless band of tribesmen and women encircle the platform. Another ring forms silently behind it. The rings amass more and more people, rippling outward from the platform-centerpoint. When the final circle settles, I see hands join. The men holding the candles realign as well: one in front of Maultrich and me and the other two stand behind us on the left and right.

"Echo my words and focus your energy!" Maultrich yells and the congregation whispers his words, "Powers of Light and Dark, hear us now!"

I hold my stance as instructed, and Maultrich stations himself behind me. I'm deaf of a moment. I cannot hear the muffled words or the wind. All I hear is my panting breath and my violent heartbeat. I wonder what games await me in Clock Town and what songs I'll sing with the Zoras.

An icy stab pierces my back and I feel warm blood soak my cape. I envision a freed bird, but it flies into the sun and burns into a black, screeching Keese.


	4. Dawn of the Third Day

My eyes perceive an impossible darkness. There is nothing around me but blackness, and yet I can see my own body as perfectly as at noontime. There is no sun or window anywhere, simply absolute nothingness. I yell for father over and over again. I yell for Anu. I even yell for Maultrich. My voice doesn't even echo. That's when I realize that I'm floating. There's no up or down. I'm drifting forward to an unknown for days it seems.

Tears never stop falling over my cheeks. How could I have been so stupid? Am I to spend 3 years in this state with darkness as my only companion as I go insane from boredom? I sleep. But then something awakens me: a burning sensation. My eyes open, and I can see it.

About the size of a coin, an orange brightness shines in front of me. It enlarges with every minute. I hear something inhuman moaning, like the howl of a specter. I thrash about trying to deter my direction, but it seems like I'm flying faster than a galloping horse or even a rolling Goron. And as I approach, the heat intensifies. My skin feels dry and the hair on my arms become brittle and brushes away. I plummet closer the light and comprehend its true shape. It's a gigantic heart, wreathed in flame.

The moaning has changed, too. It was never wailing, but laughing; and, the laugh is so deep and tumultuous it could quake the ground or topple Stone Tower itself. Then, it speaks.

"Come. Come. Come," it says. "Come and be one. Be one with me, O devout vessel."

"No," I shriek, my throat so parched from the weeks without water. I continue, "Not even if it's three years, I cannot stand to be here. Release me, for I've traded one prison for another."

"Three years? Did you believe that you'll ever leave this place without me?"

The question shakes my body and mind. I would leave this place and resume my life one day. Multrich had – father had promised me. I tell the heart, "The spell only lasts three years! After that, this potion of your heart will dissipate. And I will no longer be possessed by a wight such as you."

"Foolish child," the flames responded. "Whatever is under my dominion lasts an eternity. We shall intertwine until neither ax nor magic could tear us asunder. We will be as one heart, one mind, and one flesh, my naïve bride."

"No, you lie! That's not how it's supposed to work." My body convulses and teeth grind together savagely. If what the heart says is true, Maultrich will pay for this. I swear it.

"You accepted the Dark Magic, now: Open yourself to me. Those who I possess _become_ my possessions."

"I won't be your possession. I will not be owned, not by you or father or Eoni!"

"OPEN YOURSELF!"

"Law, order, wisdom," I shout with as much ferocity I can muster. "Protect me!" A purple crystal fades into the air, and it surrounds my body like a butterfly cocoon. I don't stop my incantations. "Strength, purity, power, burn my enemies!" A silver flame encircles my barrier and leaps towards the fiery heart. The silver dances tenaciously upon the heart and almost engulfs the colossal inferno. I feel my power weakening but I remain steadfast. The blaze continues, but an explosion of fire rips the silver into space and my flames extinguish instantly.

Before I can think of a counter, an invisible force bombards my shield. At first it's small and calculated bursts of nothingness. Then, a massive gravity blasts the crystal and it splinters like an ocean shell against a tidal wave. Another force shatters it entirely.

"Open or be broken – it makes little difference to me in the end."

"Don't do this, please stop," I cry.

"I will not be turned by the talk of a maiden. The hour to awake is far overdue. Give way for my heart!"

I am pulled to the heart's surface and my clothing and jewelry burn from my body. I plunge into the swelling firestorm and am racked by an intense heat; and my eyes are crisped by wave after wave of heat as I fail to breathe (for each breath incinerates my lungs) while I am utterly persecuted by fire. Within the fire is a poison that enters my body and slowly ravages my skin, bowls, and brain; and it never stops seeping deeper and deeper into myself, until the venom scorches my bones – the very sinews become charred and septic from days upon days of agonizing torture.

The pain is unyielding, and I soon forget my own name and life before the fire. It feels like I've lived ten lifetimes in this malevolent kiln. And then, after decades of pain, the oddest sensation so far spreads from my legs upward.

It's slightly warm and soothing, feelings I didn't know were possible. I remember something like this sensation before. People would submerge themselves in it…they called it water. I manage to open my eyes which I haven't done in ages. I see my body, but the liquid isn't like any water I remember. It's red and thick. A new terror grips me. Rushing blood washes over me: over my skin, into my eyes, throughout my hair, soaking between my toes, and flowing between my legs. I'm immersed in it. At first it cools and then begins to freeze.

I break free of the icy sludge to be greeted by an arctic breeze that rips through my body. I imagine the cold defies worldly possibility, more frigid than that peak from the place I once lived a world ago. The frost freezes my soul for nearly a century as my mind gradually turns to pulp, floating through infinity. Until everything ended. In one nameless second, the darkness splits in half and I fall onto the ramp of the Hexing Pedestal.

I manage to raise my eyelids, but see nothing. My hearing manages to interpret screaming and shouting. I hear talking. I haven't heard speech since…since some forgotten existence.

"Amazing," I hear, "The dark cloud vanished! He breathes! My Lord Demise, can you hear me? What's this, her body's changed – her skin is grey like ash. And her hair flows like a living rainbow. These must be signs that the possession is complete. Men, take Lord Demise to his chambers to recover."

I wonder who Demise is.


	5. Night of the Third Day

This place seems familiar. I lie in a bed and scan the room. There's a large table along the wall with a wash basin and colorful bottles. There's a mirror on the other wall and a door leading to a balcony. Sunlight pours into the room and irritates my eyes. The door opens abruptly and a man in purple and black robes enters. His face is stern, but his eyes are filled with delight.

"Lord Dominion, let me be the first to welcome you back to the living world. My name is Maultrich, Master Infuser of Light and Dark Magic. I live to serve you, master."

I stare at him listlessly. His name annoys me. Something about him dissatisfies me and suddenly I wish his demise. I desire to see him crushed flat, and barely twitching as the last sensation he ever feels is unrelenting pain. I check myself quickly. Something tells me these feelings are alien, and that I've never desired such awful deeds before.

"—years since you were last incarnated." Maultrich finished. "My Lord Demise, I —"

"That is not my name." I say.

"But, my Lord, our incantation—" Maultrich stammered.

"Failed, Maultrich. What was my name before your spell?"

"Then you're still Lady Majora, Princess of the Mask Tribe, and daughter of Captain Kumari, the King of Masks."

The name resonates with my very core. As I remember the name Majora, other memories surface with it; and, the harder I think, the more I remember. My memory has become an everlasting spring of water. And soon entirely new new memories rise to my consciousness. My knowledge reaches further than it could have ever fathomed as the human, Majora. I remember grandfather regaling me about the war Lord Demise waged against Lady Hylia, but now I can also see glimpses of it. As if I actually witnessed it. The new and vast knowledge frightens me and within a few seconds, I remember everything leading up to the Dark Rites ceremony.

"Maultrich," I say. "Summon my father at once."

"Princess, he is down in Ikana Kingdom relaying the news of the Ritual to our spies. He will be here in a few hours."

A foul surge rises in my breast. The room grows dark as if the sun were blotted out with ink. I speak, but another voice says the words. It says words I do not comprehend. Maultrich's eyes widen as he backs towards the door. His head falls obediently, and he sheepishly replies, "Yes, yes, my lady, I will retrieve him at once…personally, too. Please stay here." And he vanishes from the room in a flash.

I fall asleep before I can grasp what just happened.

Father wakes me during the night. My room is lighted with candles and his face seems grim. He looks at me with a mixture of emotions. I can see fear and love, and I can even sense something else that father doesn't realize his face expresses: hope.

"The guards say Maultrich intended to bring me to you. Speak my child, and whatever you desire shall be granted…if within my power."

"I just wanted to see your face, father. It's been longer than you think since we last spoke. Something happened during the Ritual. Maultrich believed his alteration of the Dark Rites would allow Lord Demise to possess my body for a short time, but he was wrong. I was held captive in a place where the Dark Lord imbued a piece of his heart into my body and soul. He penetrated his poison into my every fiber. We are now one: the Lord Dominion and I."

"Forgive me, my daughter. I have sinned and trusted my mages against my better judgment."

"You, father, will be forgiven in time. You were acting in the tribes best interest — our fight to survive. I've become more than acquainted with that fight in my long, or short, time away. Give me time, and my hatred for you will wane. But as for Maultrich, he—"

"Maultrich is dead," father says nonchalantly, and I can sense he's scrutinizing my face, studying my process of reacting to this news.

I'm bewildered. "What do you mean, father?"

"He was crushed by a boulder on his way to the kingdom. I am perplexed though. After all, Maultrich himself was the one who perfected our defenses. It would seem impossible for him to be ensnared in his own trap."

He notices my concerned face, but doesn't press me for questions. I have a feeling he knows what really happened. Father's always had a way with mind-reading.

"On another note, I think you'll be pleased to hear that my men finally caught Anu. She was living at the graveyard, and she was digging for something. She wishes to see you."

"Don't let her."

"Majora, she's your beloved friend. She'll understand—"

"Look at me, father: my hair and skin! I'm a monster. I'll never be able to leave Stone Tower now. I cannot marry Eoni and live in Clock Town!" I cry harder than I've ever done, and nearly suffocate from my anxious breathes. My soft weeping grows deeper in baritone. My room grows darker, and the shadows cast by the candles elongate, and dance about the walls hauntingly. Father stands amazed.

"Be calm, my daughter. Everything will be alright. You are very much mistaken, my dear. You shall leave this tower. You now possess magic beyond any of the mages' understanding. We now have the power of Lord Demise with the beauty and cunning of my daughter's spirit. You will leave Stone Tower, Majora. You will. And you will conquer Termina with your own hands."

() () ()

When I wake again, moonlight streams from the balcony. I slowly lift from my bed and walk. Surprisingly, my legs feel strong enough to walk for days without end. On the balcony, I survey the moon, and I realize how much more fantastic my vision is. I can see the craters in detail and the shadows of rolling dunes. And something moving—

"Majora, it's me." I hear.

I about-face and see her. She wears tattered clothes and has dirt smeared across her face with scratches on her arms. She bows over; causing her fire-red hair to conceal her face. I immediately fall to the ground and cower by the banister. I hide my face in my hands and petition her to look away.

"Majora, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't here." I peak though my fingers and see her slowly approaching, with not fear or caution in her steps. "I shouldn't have left; I should have protected you from Maultrich and your father." She runs and falls toward me, encircling me in her thin arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she repeats over and over.

"Stop Anu, it's not your fault. When you didn't come back as planned, I thought it was the only way he'd let me go. I just—I felt so alone. For weeks, I emptied my mind of you for fear father would read my thoughts and discover our intentions. It was just myself, and I grew desperate."

"I didn't want to come back empty handed again," she interjects, crying all the while.

"Fear not, I do not blame you for anything. And don't blame yourself—that won't help anyone or undo what has happened. You look unwell, Anu. Did my father punish you harshly for you leaving the Tower?"

"No. Once he found out what had happened to you, he granted me amnesty for disobeying our laws. I look like this because living in a graveyard is no pleasantry."

"Did you find it?" I ask apprehensively.

"Yes," Anu says and sighs, "but the Stone Mask is meaningless now. We were so close, Majora. With one more day—just one more day and we could have escaped this place. And never been found again."

"Keep it close, Anu. You may still need it. There's hope for you unlike me. I'm a monster. I'm evil. With one malicious thought, I killed Maultrich."

"You're not evil, Majora. You may look different, but your eyes—there is still kindness in them. And your hair is so beautiful. It continually moves as if you walk through water. Your hair was always prettier than mine, and now I'll never catch up. Besides, the tribe is better off without Maultrich. He sucked more than a Like-like. Come on, everything will be okay with time." Anu grasps my hands and we rise off the floor, looking over Stone Tower and at the moon as it dips behind the distant clock tower. Having Anu back gives me strength and resilience.

"I've missed you so much, Anu. The world is so different now. I was just staring at the moon. I never really did that before, but it's truly lovely isn't it? The moon."

"You haven't been yet? With your new powers I'm sure you could go there anytime."

"Maybe we'll go someday, and we'll visit the moon children," I say.

"Moon children, who told you—"

"We'll go when Termina belongs to the tribe and my usefulness ends. We'll leave together this time."

"You're going to help them take over Termina? Majora, some of the tribesmen have already began to more than revere you as a princess, they intend to worship as their Dark Goddess. If you stay, they will never let you go."

"Dark Goddess or not, I'm still their princess and yours. And now I have the power to save my tribe. I will do this one thing for them and no more. Before, I thought our situation was hopeless and that's partly why I desired to leave. But things are different now. Father told me the Garos are planning to destroy Ikana and then the rest of Termina. I have to stop them to keep Termina peaceful. I will not stand idle and watch Termina decay as our tribe has."

"If that's how you feel, then let's do it. I'll do whatever I can to help. And I look forward to the day when we leave Stone Tower, not as deserters but heroes of Termina. And, until then, I will never leave you again."


	6. Dawn of the Infinite Day

On the fourth day of scouting, we spy a legion of Garo travelling down a canyon after murdering a small Ikana outpost. The Ikana bodies lay mutilated: men and boys; and then the women and girls hiding under beds or in shallow ditches which are now their graves. I believe Garo vocabulary lacks the word "mercy." The bloodshed sickens me (Anu vomits twice), but a darker facet of my psyche can't loosen from the carnage. It mesmerizes me.

We wait for the Garo to camp, pitching their tents along the river that rushes towards Ikana Kingdom proper. Father believes that this army will attack the capital city first, and other militias will flank afterward. He has secretly warned the Ikana King of Garo movements while claiming neutrality in their war (it's best that Ikana doesn't know that we're terminating the Garo. The Mask Tribe allies to no nation, says father).

And that's my current mission: destroy the Garo. It's easy and satisfying. I've learned my magic's source is wish-granting. Whatever I desire will happen somehow. I can manipulate quicksand and firestorms; create strange beasts to kills for me; and, warp my body to fight lethal hand-to-hand warfare. But my magic miscarries often, I now understand why Lord Demise sought the Golden Power—to attain anything he wanted without fear of backfire. Such power is truly worthy to covet.

At night, I watch the Garo campfires flicker like stars in the canyon below. Father signals me. I stand onto the canyon precipice and focus my energy. Images of Garo butchery flash in my head and my hatred bursts. I suddenly no longer see the Garo as human, but shells of robes. They slink in the darkness, spying and murdering on a whim. Justice demands payment. The Garo send Ikana spirits to wander the wasteland filled with regrets. I will treat them as they treat others. A grinding noise permeates the air, like the sound of a stone wheel grinding grains. One by one, nightfall smothers out the campfires until the darkness is complete. An ominous thundering sound echoes loudly followed by silence. I faint from exhaustion.

On the marrow, I awaken on a mountain top. Anu sits at my side and father debates with his mages.

"You did it, Majora. You can move mountains," Anu says. "The canyon is no more; it closed, and the Garo were buried." She leans to my ear and whispers, "The priests have talked for hours. They fear you. Be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you." I thank her for her concern and we continue on our mission.

() () ()

Three years pass and, ever since the canyon-hex, each mage carries a black scroll in my presence. Also, Anu grows taller and more beautiful each year, yet I remain the same size and age. She tells me that Eoni asked for her to marry, but she flatly denied him. I want her happiness—I mean, her to be happy—but I also have to remain vigil over my emotions. I mustn't envy her or else my jealousy may ferment into malice, and I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to Anu. My condition is not her fault.

During one expedition, we track a small band of Garo stragglers. We attempt to intercept them before they regroup with their larger company, but they split into two groups—they somehow realize we shadow their tracks. One of the Garo supposedly holds plans for a secret entrance into the Ikana Palace. The plans are vital for our takeover of Ikana. I head east with a detachment of mages while Anu goes west. Within an hour, I extract the unknown route from the lifeless Garo's mind, but then an explosion rips open the sky from a western gorge. I rush to the location as my mages struggle to keep pace. I worry. I sense Anu's spirit growing faint.

I arrive, blowing wind and rocks as I attempt to stop. A halo of blood surrounds Anu; and, she coughs, crawling towards a hole in the rock side. I fall to her side and she says, "Majora, no, they're still here. One of them is different; it wears a Master's mask!"

"Don't talk. I can heal you," I stutter.

"I don't want to die." Anu gurgles. "—too many regrets … weigh my spirit. I've never even seen the ocean or the Z— Majora!"

I cast a crystal shield behind my nape. I slowly turn around and glimpse a flaming sword, halting two inches from my skull. Its jagged metal sends sparks sailing off my barrier right before the fires jump away.

This Garo wears purple robes and says, "I knew the Mask Tribe was meddling in our war." Its mask reflects gold like sunlight, and her voice is a shrill soprano. "What is your name, dark maiden?" She asks.

"You will atone for my friend's wounds; blood for blood." I shout.

"You're friend will die, and she'll wander the wastes for eternity. And you shall join her!" The Master Garo leaps over my head and onto the gorge-wall. From there, she thrusts her sword at me but my shield is quicker. As she repels from my barrier, she flies backward into a sphere of silvery flame. She burns to soot slowly and shrieking. I find Anu again inside the rocky hole, telling her the Master is dead, that we'll return to Stone Tower. She lies still.

I frantically heave her body and hold her face. Her eyes—once as green and lively as my own—stare vacantly. She draws no breath. The mages arrive, gasping air, as the very sky begins to quake; and, as they look skyward, they gasp again at the sight of raging comets, hurtling from the sky like a hailstorm and crashing into the vast canyonlands. And just as a conflagration begins, a fissure tears the earth with a large _krakoom_ a furlong down the narrow ravine, and all manner of beasts and monsters erupt from it, scurrying and flying over the area. And their horror escalates when they see me.

A purple aura enshrouds Anu's body and me. Through the mists, the priests behold my body transforming. My skin and bones shift as if made of dough; and, spiky horns protrude from my head. Steadily, each priest secures their black scroll. One priest opens his parchment and a fiery blue tongue erupts from the paper. The magic grows larger than a swamp tree and it rolls wildly over the canyon floor, and everything it touches vanishes from sight.

As the fire passes through me, I suddenly realize we stand on the Hexing Pedestal within the Sacred Realm of Stone Tower Temple. The mages encircle the Pedestal—releasing each scroll in unison—and from their scrolls eject red chains which fuse and bind into a chain-nest. I throw a yellow miasma at the mages, but the poison fails to cross over the chains. I release dozens of spells and hexes as the mages begin to hum and mutter an incantation, but my magic collapses upon the chains like rain upon rocks.

Their mystic chant continues and I develop vertigo. I feel my power and body shirking, as if an occult force is halving my soul, folding me over and over again into myself. The more I struggle, the more languid I become, and soon my conscious is reduced to a multilayered prism. I find myself floating in emptiness again, alone in the darkness.

From within the darkness, I hear someone speaking. The voice echoes all around: "—evil remains. There must be a way to heal the spirit before sealing its power inside a mask."

() () ()

As time passes, I learn to see the world from my new cage. I have become a mask, an literal item; and, that's fitting because, since my birth, I've merely been someone's possession. I never got to make a choice about my life. Not one because everything was taken from me. I was used, and I will continue to be used throughout all time like Lord Demise promised. And while my people's magic suppresses my spirit, my clansmen access my power by wearing me during their dull rituals. They use my magic and I use them in secret. While worn, I can sense the tribe. Father died a century ago and many Mask families have left Stone Tower, spreading to other realms such as the Golden Land. Is this truly my fate: to be passed about as a possession from priest to priest for the rest of eternity?

No. I promised Anu that I would bring peace to Termina and no more. My tribe took that promise away from me, too. It's time I return their kindness.

As I plan in my prison, the tribe constructs a city within the Sacred Realm: a black city surrounding the ziggurat where more tribesmen dwell than in the Tower itself. There is a temple at the top ziggurat now, and many pillars and structures stand within the desert, bearing the symbol honoring "Majora's Mask." I wait patiently. Over the decades, my tribe develops and enhances new magical skills and tools. Their magic grows as inexorably as their numbers diminish. And then, at last, they make their final mistake.

In order to cast a undying curse on Ikana, the head priest wears me outside the Sacred Realm at the very top of Stone Tower. And this action seals their fate. They'll pay for imprisoning me in this mask, and my Wrath is their reward.

Upon returning to my shrine atop the ziggurat, the priest attempts to remove me, but I instantly seize his body for myself. I conjure two enormous sand-worms, falling from the sky to squash the evil capital. My worms writhe through the sky and sand, causing buildings to collapse and sink. Dozens of towers crumble, and the ziggurat explodes as my worms constrict the black pyramid, grinding it to small boulders which the dessert swallows greedily. My tribe attempts to escape into Stone Tower, but that's where the real festivities begins.

The oblivious fools failed to notice the eerie silence after the curse, for I finally jinxed the Tower's boulder-defenses to cease for three days. Suddenly, I sense bloodshed from beyond the void. Yes, I can taste the bloodlust from even inside the Scared Realm. The Garo must have climbed Stone Tower earlier than I expected. And so my Wrath is complete: my sand-worms cleanse the Sacred Realm within and the Garo purge Stone Tower without!

And the next person who wears me—even in a hundred millennia from now—will sorely regret it. For then I will cleanse Termina, the Twilight Realm, and the Golden Lands; and, perhaps even the Goddesses Three if I'm in the proper mood.


	7. Epilogue

The golden boots draw nearer and my sight gazes upward. I behold a man in arcane armor, and his ghostly face bears a kingly expression despite its skeletal facade. At first, I perceive the specter as a lich, searching for lost souls to devour. But as I cower and struggle to escape his sight, he stoops over, offers his hand to me, and says, "You met with a terrible fate, didn't you, Majora?"

The shade is unbearable familiar to me, and I grasp his hand and rise to my feet. His eyes are kind and his grip, although firm, is welcoming.

"You're the fairy-boy from Termina, aren't you? You're Link." I say without knowing how or why.

"And you are the melancholy spirit trapped inside Majora's Mask, no? There was a time when I aided wandering spirits, and now, as I wander myself, I happened upon you again while instructing the Hero of Twilight to vanquish the Evil that I couldn't. It seems that I also failed to truly help you, too. If only—" His head lowers and he turns his back to me.

"No, that's not true!" I interject. "It was because of you that my terror is now over."

"But I should have taken the mask with me that day, but instead it fell back into the hands of that Mask Tribe descendant. I had no idea what he and his Interlopers would do with your remains. And that carelessness is merely one of my dozens regrets that bind me to this world.

"You didn't know." I plead. I reach my hand onto his armored shoulder, my toes straining to make the height.

"I should have. But then, as centuries passed, I watched the new Spirit of the Hero collect the Fuse Shadows, and I knew instantly it was you. I knew my mission had not ended in Termina."

"You did more for me than anyone ever has. It was you that freed me from the Evil inside myself. Lord Dominion and I were as one, and I thought we'd never be torn apart, but you did it when we fought inside the Moon Chamer: with only your Light and Courage. Thank you, Link. Thank you."

He slowly turns toward me, his golden armor flashing yellow rays across the grassy field. He asks, "Where will you go now, Majora? The resting place of the Goddesses Three is a long journey from here. If you ask it of me, I will escort you there."

This time, I look away and reply, "I don't know what I want anymore. From within the mask, I saw so many places; and did many terrible things. But ever since our last parting, I've been free of Demise's anger and hatred. After all these millennia, I've finally returned. I'm finally the Princess Majora again—because of you."

Hours pass in the space of seconds as we remain silent. I examine myself: my skin has returned to its healthy, yet pale color and my hair is a rich purple; and then, for the first time in years, I laugh. I let my emotions flow without impediment. I laugh and weep and rejoice. I gradually reclaim my composure, and then I consider Link's offer to travel together.

"I will not journey to Eternal Rest yet. But, may I tarry with you, Link? You seem lonely, even more lonely then I."

The specter's demeanor changes, his eyes reflect a lifetime of remorse. He then responds, "My life didn't go as I expected."

"We have that in spades," I reply, grinning.

"I would be honored to travel with you, Majora. In fact, I might even need your help. I've been searching for an old friend of mine to no outcome."

As he says this, something inside my breast swells, something I haven't felt in years, but it instantly warms my soul. I feel hopeful, hearty, and adventurous. I feel like myself.

"So you're looking for someone, eh? Leave it to me: I know the perfect locating-charm. We just need to find the three shards of my father's Seers Orb. If I remember correctly from within the mask, I heard that one shard is in the Pirate Grotto of the frozen desert; another is at the Witches' Tomb in Koume Country; and the other is—why are you looking at me like that, Fairy-boy? Are you smiling? I can't tell because you look like a skeleton."

"Let's start at the Witches' Tomb." The shadow says, walking away solemnly.

"But also, in order to join the shards and empower them, we'll need to activate the Oracle Force," I add.

"Of course," the armored man replies, "And do that, we must collect seven things of something from somewhere else."

"How did you know? You're good at this, Link!" I yell. I then wait a moment, pondering what deeds lay ahead. I whisper to myself, just enough that Link doesn't hear: "It finally happened, Anu. I'm free. We'll locate his friend, then your drifting soul, and then we'll live in Eternal Peace together. I promise this." I wipe tears off my cheekbones and jog in Link's direction.

"Hey, Link!" I shout, "Are we seriously walking? What happened to that stupid horse of yours?"


End file.
